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Torn
I'm always torn at tournment time. It's an honor to be asked, but good lord, it can take over your life for the time it's going . . .
Last year I did a stint as the host umpire for the 15 yo SW Regional Babe Ruth at Bentonville, Arkansas. Tournament play started Friday. Saturday we had a rainout- one field was all the host site had going, with 5 umpires.
Sunday we proceeded to make up Saturday's games- all 4 of them- with all 4of Sunday's games too. We started promptly at 8 am. 17 hours, two plates and three pads later, I drove my exhausted self home. My UIC worked it so that I got the game off after each dish, but still . . . It was well over 100 degrees by 1 pm. It was so freaking hot it melted the glue in my base shoes. The looked like flip flops by my last game. The next day I felt like I had two cases of Black Label by myself that day . . .
My district commissioner just called me to tell me I'm the UIC for the 13 yo State BR tournament- next week. Hooray!
Ok, it's an honor to be asked.
Strikes and outs!
Especially on an 8 game, one-field day.
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